Resurrection
by J.A. Carlton
Summary: Canon oriented Speculation piece. One possible way to open Season 4. TONS of SamAngst and DeanAngst, and Bobby Angst and ... well just lots of Angst. Maybe even some HURT!
1. Chapter 1

Resurrection To The Darkside – An spn canon oriented fic

Resurrection – An spn canon oriented speculation fic.

by: sifi.

A/N – this started as a broad stroke speculation about how season 4 would start. The thread on my home board went something like this:

"How do you think Dean will come back in Season 4?"

to which I eventually responded:

"I don't know... I actually think it would be phenomenal, and of course Jensen would be phenomenal if Sam was able to bring Dean back right there on the dining room floor... so that in OUR world only seconds had passed but in the hell of his mind only Dean knows how long that eternity lasted...

I mean picture it...

Sammy somehow Whammy's Dean back into full possession of his body... but in his mind... part of Dean's psyche is still dangling from chains and hooks... (or worse yet, his psyche represented by his body gets literaly ripped and shredded off the hooks as Sam pulls him back).

He comes back gasping, shaking, swatting at the reality around him as if it's an hallucination. Sam's voice, filled with concern and fear is warped and almost demonic in his hears as he stumbles to his feet, clutching at furniture that dances away, swatting away Sam's well meaning hands that try to lever him up.

He stumbles through the dining room, half falling into things, his whole world off balance as he scrambles away, re-living the last moment he remembers on this plane with the hound tearing him apart.

Nervous, terrified, and grossly uncertain Sam follows him through the house toward the front door, he trips over the corpse of the dead grandmother just as Bobby enters catching him before he can fall. His eyes fix on Bobby's, his expression is visibly terrified as he shoves the man away, scrambling out the door onto the porch where he stands as the sun comes up, light blinding in his eyes, the world a nightmare visage outlined in negative relief.

Sam is ready to grab him if he tries to run, Bobby looks on anxiously. From behind them Ruby comes up, grabs Sam and slams him into the wall, "What did you do!" She demands furiously.

"I brought him back," Sam stammers.

"You stupid idiot! You only brought him PARTWAY back! Part of him is still stuck in there! If you don't fix this he's not gonna be your brother anymore! He's gonna be a vegetable!"

Cut to an interior shot of Dean's tortured psyche, supported now by only two hooks one through his traps, the other through his side, huge chunks of his "Body" have been torn away, SFX as the hooks start to pull in different directions tearing him apart as he screams inside his head.

Cut to the porch: Dean screams in agony, Sam reaches for him but he knocks Sam away, Bobby lunges, Dean smacks him down as well, Ruby moves in, from Dean's POV we are able to see the demon inside the woman. He lashes out in terror getting her off guard as Sam and Bobby are coming back to their senses. Ruby stumbles back ward into them. Dean flees.

The hunt for the Eldest Winchester is on."

Well, that's how this fic began anyway.

I hope you enjoy.

OOooOO

"_Sammy! Sammy help me!"_ Dean knew he was screaming, he knew the hellhound had done its job, he was 'puppy chow', his soul was on the express elevator to hell, except he wasn't really going anywhere was he? Tearing, searing, rending pain filled him from head to foot tearing his body apart with weight and heat and terror that made any agony he'd felt before pale in comparison. _T'sokay though… Sammy's safe, his soul is safe. Don't you give in Sammy, don't you make this all for nothing… "Judas," _something said deep inside, _Huh? What? _He stopped screaming and looked around. He'd expected demons chowing on his entrails here. He didn't expect to be alone. But then again, when he really thought about it, why wouldn't hell be tailored to the person stuck there? _"Is ANYBODY THERE?" _he screamed wondering how bad it would be to have any of the demons he'd sent back chewing on his insides. _Can't be worse than being alone._

"_Oh god… oh GOD… what? Sammy would know… What'm I supposed to say?... SOMEBODY HELP ME!" _And suddenly the pain didn't seem quite so deep, at least not the pain on the outside.

OOooOO

_What? I'm still here? _He stood to his full height just as surprised by his continued life as Lilith was.

"Back!" she tried to pin him to the wall again, but suddenly he didn't quite have the urge to comply. Instead he strode forward and picked up Ruby's blade from the floor. Pure and genuine bliss burst to life through him with the thought of killing the bitch who stole his brother.

_Wait! NOooooOOOOO! Son of a BITCH!_ his insides screamed as the demon fled Ruby's body, _Run bitch run… there's NO WHERE you can hide where I won't find you! There's no ONE you can hide IN where I won't kill you!_

_Dean!_ Frightened, disbelieving, he lowered himself to the floor, _Please no… _ he blinked but his big brother remained still.

_No, No no please… Dean…_ if his voice was echoing the words, he couldn't be sure for the sound of the screaming in his head. Layers that slashed at him, _I let him down, I failed; "Sammy! Help me!"; "It's your fault! You let your brother down Sam! You could have saved him! Put that evil in ya to good use! You never WERE up to snuff boy!"; Dean, I'm sorry, I was… I didn't want… I tried to do what you wanted… oh God what have I done?_

OOooOO

"Sam you can't do this!"

The youngest Winchester cast a glance at the host, sending her stumbling back into the wall without lifting a finger, "Either help me or get out."

"You don't know what this can do to him… please…" she came forward and grasped him by the jacket, forcing him to see something besides his dead brother's body, "If you try to yank him back… there's no telling what kind of damage you're going to do to his soul."

"I can't leave him there," he ground through clenched teeth.

"You don't have a choice! There's a process involved here Sam! Do you think he'd want this for you? Look at what you're becoming! Look at what you've already done!" she screamed motioning to the patchwork of flesh that used to be a man, sitting in a cage in the corner. "Do you think Dean would EVER want this!"

"Don't you dare…" he snarled grasping her by the jacket, carrying her across the room bodily to slam her into the cinderblock wall, "Don't you EVER think you have a right to tell me what he would or wouldn't want, or what I should or shouldn't do…" he slammed her against the wall once more to accentuate his point, "now you can either go find that bitch and tell me where she is…" he took a shaky breath, "… or just get out," then let her down and broke the cardinal Winchester rule. He turned his back on her. If Lilith couldn't kill him, no way Ruby could, _not even with a demon killing pig sticker. It's almost a shame_.

With a deep frown creasing her brows Ruby glanced at the once-upon-a-man in the cage. Even she was repulsed as he reached for her between the bars.

"Hey girlie…" his southern drawl called softly, "Do an old man a favor… I'm not gonna hurt nobody…"

Sam barely glanced over his shoulder at Doc Benson, "Will your head still talk if there's no body attached to it?" he asked effectively quieting the… man.

"Sam," she breathed at the base of the stairs, watching as he shook his head. _Case closed._ She thought leaving the broken chosen one in just another kind of tomb.

OOooOO

"It's always the last place y'look…isn't it?" Bobby's voice was smirking as he stepped out of the tree line in front of Ruby.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she tried to deny. Her allegiance after all was to Sam, _yeah which means also taking DEAN into consideration which means taking this… one into consideration… just don't make me kill you. I don't think Dean or Sam would appreciate it right now. _

"Don't lie t'me girl… I've known that boy…"

"You don't know him any MORE…" she spat angrily, wondering how it had all come to this. What she wouldn't give to turn back the clock, _as long as he kills Lilith… that's all that really matters to me. _"What he IS? What he's BECOMING!" she shook her head.

Bobby squinted against a sudden acceleration of his heartbeat, "You're scared."

"You're damned RIGHT I am! He's on a slow burn right now…" her eyes fled to the cabin door as Sam's lanky figure filled the yellow rectangle.

"Don't you have a job to do?" he reminded softly before stepping down the porch and meeting them in the foreyard.

Ruby scowled briefly before moving into the shadows to disappear.

"Hey Bobby," Sam greeted feeling a spin of dejavous, _you're not the trickster in a bobby suit are you?_ He wondered but only dared crack a smile at his own joke. _I thought those six months were bad… this is so much worse… I can't live like this, not when its' my fault for being too afraid to act. WHAT GOOD IS MY HUMANITY IF IT COULDN'T SAVE MY BROTHER! _his pain screamed.

Bobby's warm hand clasped him at the neck, "What're you doing here boy?" he asked almost choking on the question.

"If you didn't already have an idea you wouldn't be here," Sam spoke softly, "I need to get him out of there …" his breath seemed to stop in his throat, "I feel him screaming…" he looked around quickly then tapped the side of his head, "In here…" then his chest, "And here…" he shook his head dropping his hands onto the older man's shoulders, "He's SCREAMING for me! He WANTS to be saved Bobby, I have to get him back… his body is ready, it's functioning…" Sam nodded with wide eyes.

"What?" the old hunter asked squinting, "What the hell have you done boy?"

"It's SCIENCE Bobby… his heart is beating, his blood is circulating… but there's nobody home…I need to bring him home…" he half gasped as the tears finally spilled free.

"How?" He asked not quite sure if he believed it just yet.

"I just need the right ritual to put him back Bobby, to pull him up from the pit and give him a chance to get back into his body… he should snap right back in there once he's free right? I mean all the lore about the righteous soul held unjustly…"

"Where the hell do you get the idea his soul is all that righteous? He SOLD IT Sam! He SOLD his soul! Is THAT the act of a righteous man?! Don't you understand what DAMNATION IS?!" he yelled recalling a time just over a year ago when he confronted Dean about the deal he'd made for Sam. How bereft he'd felt knowing that this boy who'd once had a clean and untainted-where-it-mattered soul had SOLD It! Bargained it away… _but still_ a little voice whispered in the back of his mind, _could it really be? I can't let him get his hopes up._

Sam's eyes lit up and he half smiled, "Nah… there's a loophole Bobby! He sold it to SAVE another, THAT IS an act of a righteous man! I mean if you wanna get biblical about it how much closer to righteous IS there than to sacrifice one's self for the sake of another?! Isn't Jesus himself pretty much the FIRST precedent?" He argued.

"Your brother was a little more Holy Moly than Holy of Holies…" Bobby scowled.

"Doesn't matter… Believe me if anyone knows…" he stopped, smiled and shook his head, "point is… it was the ultimate self sacrifice… and I'm not talking about doing anything here that's going to jeopardize MY soul or make his sacrifice worthless," he paced before the older man, his hands fisted into his hair, "There's a lot of rituals out there to set bound spirits free that aren't DARK spellwork… we just need the right one."

"And if he doesn't come back? If it doesn't work? Or worse yet, what if he brings something BACK with him?" Bobby challenged definitely understanding the young hunters' point of view. _He's right… we COULD do this… he should snap right back in there once he's set free…_

Sam stopped and spun to face him, "Then we do what he would want us to and make sure he's at peace."

_I can't believe I'm gonna go along with this…_ "You sure you could do that?" He asked.

Sam shook his head, "No. But you could, and I wouldn't stop you."

"What'd you send Ruby off to do?" He asked scowling.

"Find Lilith," Sam nodded, "No matter what happens here, I'm going to kill her."

The older hunter nodded, "Yeah."

"So are we gonna do this?" Sam asked, "Will you help me?"

Slowly Bobby nodded, "Long as you understand that if he can't get back we take care of business the right way. I won't have that boy wandering around in torment… whole freakin' life was enough o'that anyway with your dad… not t'speak ill of the dead," he grumbled.

Sam swallowed hard and nodded, holding his hand out to the man they both saw as more of a father figure than John had been, a man he and Dean had loved just as much, "You have my word Bobby."

With a curt nod toward his charger sitting just inside the tree line, "I got a few books in the trunk might help us… c'mon," he led the way with Johns youngest at his side and the stirrings of hope fluttering in his belly. _Maybe… just maybe…_

OOooOO

A/N – I know there's a bazillion speculation fics being written right now… if y'all want me to stop or not bother… please let me know… if you've already had your fill and don't want to read any more of 'em.. please let me know…

Course if you DO want me to go on… please let me know.

(For those of you reading it… I AM also still working on High Noon and hope to have chapter 9 up by this coming Sunday. Thank you for your patience.)

tbc.

Please R&R

Thanks.

sifi.


	2. Chapter 2

Resurrection – spn season 4 speculation fic. – chpt 2.

by: sifi.

OOooOO

Did I ever disclaim this? Hmm probably not… so… Yes Dear Krip… disclaimed… the boys et cetera are yours.

The Love however is MINE to give. Thank you for the opportunity.

**by the way… LOTS of "F" bombs in this one.**

OOooOO

"What's the matter? You never seen anyone who's immortal before?" Doc Benson sneered as Bobby peered into the cage.

"What're you gonna do with him once we're done here?" He asked before starting to set up the candles while Sam drew a series of protective sigils on the floor around the table Dean's body lay on.

Apparently Sam had done a little hospital raiding on his way to the cabin and had his brothers' body hooked up to both an EKG and EEG monitor. The EKG showed all vitals strong though on the low end, as if the boy was in a coma. The EEG however showed only the barest hint of electrical activity. _At least something's firing in there,_ he thought despite knowing what the reduced signals meant, as the saying went, 'the lights were on, but no one was home'. _Aww Sam… this just smacks of all kinds of wrong… have you thought this through really? Have you talked with that nut job over there? _

The elder hunter turned and crouched before the doctor, "Once he's back inside his body…" he started.

"He'll be just as alive as you or I." Doc Benson assured.

"What about your famous potion?" Bobby asked, his skepticism showing on his face.

"Body's just a machine… once there's a soul inside to operate it… or another machine on the outside to keep it running…" he shrugged.

"Then how's the potion work?"

Doc Benson leaned back and tapped the side of his head, "Uh uh…" he grinned shaking his head. He wasn't about to let his secret out to just anyone.

"Some of the elements activate certain receptors in the body's cells, turning them into kind of miniature capacitors while others stimulate them to generate the energy necessary, kind of the principle of the perpetual motion machine except on an energetic level," Sam muttered standing to his full height with the final sigil drawn. _What a hole to wake up in…_ he shook his head at the blood spotted torn up sheet that separated the Doc's crude work area from his 'surgical' area.

"Kind of a mitochondrial and ribosomal dance of a hundred veils…" Doc Benson drawled then cocked his head at Sam, "But come on now boy… what you wanna go lettin' out my secret for huh? I thought we had a deal…" he drawled.

"Deal is you help me get his body up and running again and I don't hack you up into little bitty pieces, and salt and burn each one of 'em before scattering you to the four winds," Sam snarled drawing a surprised and faintly unnerved look from Bobby.

"So what ARE you going to do with him Sam?" He asked rising to his full height.

"Boy brought me a new heart to replace the one his brother stabbed… a trade in good faith…" Doc said.

Bobby grabbed Sam by the arm, shoving him beyond the 'curtain' his eyes wide with disbelief, "You can't let that … THING go! You can't tell me that's what you're planning on doing!"

"Yes I can Bobby," Sam winked, "that's exactly what I'm going to do."

"You STOLE a human heart!?" the older hunter hissed trying to figure out exactly how far gone the youngest Winchester was.

"Yeah STOLE it… it's not like I ripped it out of someone's chest…" he argued.

"Someone DIED for it to be there to steal!"

"Yeah… but neither of us had any part in that death… my hands are clean," Sam assured him.

"Oh yeah? How clean are they gonna feel when maybe the person who was WAITING for it DIES because you STOLE it!"

Sam's head twitched with his wince, indicating he HAD at least thought of that much. A heartbeat later his eyes turned cold and the corner of his mouth turned up, "It doesn't matter."

"Yes it does! YES it DOES SAM!" Bobby grasped him by the shirtfront and shook the much taller man, "MY GOD boy it DOES matter don't you see?" he pleaded shifting his grip so he was cupping Sam's head, "It DOES matter…" he breathed shakily.

Sam shook his head, "Not to me." He nodded toward the table where Dean's chest was rising and falling as if he were sleeping, "What's done is done. Now, we've come this far are you with me or are you leaving?" He challenged.

Bobby shook his head, "You God damned stubborn MULE… you're JUST like your father…" he breathed deep, "Let's do this," he motioned to one of the books cracked open on a nearby bench, "This looks to be about the best option we have to set his soul free and give him a chance to get back into his body… now you gotta understand though, that depending on how deep down the pit he is… it could take some time for him to be able to break free and actually find his way back… we should be doing this where he died… it's going to make it harder on him that we're not." He explained.

Sam shook his head, "He'll find his way back, I'll be here to help him."

"Sam…" Bobby's head hung on his neck, his eyes closed, _I really don't want to know, I don't want to ask, I don't want to know… but I have to, _"How did you survive Lilith?" He looked up into the young man's eyes, "Was it your… psychic thing?" He asked.

Sam shook his head, "I don't think so." he could feel Bobby breathe a sigh of relief beside him, and knew he had no choice but to shatter the man's illusion, _Sorry Bobby, _he apologized inside then dropped the bomb, "I think its the demon in me."

The older hunter's hand trembled with shock, the fingers that had been pinching the corner of the book's page twitched hard enough to actually rip it by a couple inches.

Sam smiled and looked the man in the eyes, "One thing Dean made sure to drill into my head over the last few years…well since we found out about all this… crap… is that whatever happens, I _have_ a choice in the matter. Neither one of us wanted to open this door Bobby, but when Lilith attacked, it opened all on its own to keep me alive, like a reflex." he breathed and let the man in on what he considered a secret, "I didn't expect to survive. Hell Bobby… I didn't _WANT_ to!" He dared a look at the older man's shocked expression and found himself angry against the surprise there, "Where the hell you think my soul is destined to go anyway huh!? You think I'm gonna sit there with a mocha half caf-latte with Saint Freakin Peter when my time is done? Huh!" he shouted furiously.

This was part of Sam Bobby had always known was in there, it was part of him that he'd seen butt heads with John, but had gratefully never borne the full brunt of himself, "I'm FUCKING HELL SPAWN BOBBY!" Sam choked as tears spilled over the lower rims of his eyes.

He hitched his thumb at his brother's body, "Only thing that always kept me straight was Dean." he sniffed hard as the older man watched him collect himself, "The question now is whether I keep hold of this tiger's tail… or do I let go and let it kill who HE BELIEVES I can be?... I'm not ready for that, to let him down like that. If I do Bobby, if I let go of what he thinks I CAN be… we might as well just leave him in hell."

Sam dared a deep tremulous breath then nodded, "I can't let him down like that. I have to be what he believes I can, I have to try, and at the very least… if it's all we can do… we have to give him peace."

"You saw what happened to that Jake kid when he used those powers," Bobby hissed.

"Yeah," Sam nodded, "He made a choice to do what yellow eyes wanted, but in case you haven't been keeping score? Azazel's dead. No one's putting a gun to my head, no one's threatening my family… I mean hell…" he laughed, "Dad's dead, Dean's dead… all we got left is us… right? This is a _choice_ Bobby. It's an active choice to use what I have to try and save my brother, at the very least to try and pull his soul out of hell. It's _me _making the choice to use the power rather than letting it use me."

A flicker of sudden understanding crossed Bobby's face, "When you said you can hear him and feel him screaming you weren't being metaphorical were you?"

Sam shook his head, "No."

The older man gave an explosive shiver "Oh good Lord!" then scrubbed his face before grasping Sam's in his warm caring mitts.

"Can we get on with this now please?" Sam asked, "Every minute we waste out here is an eternity for Dean… I can FEEL time moving at both paces… and he's so close to being lost… Please."

Still quaking Bobby nodded quickly helping Sam finish the set up for the ritual.

OOooOO

"SAMMY!" the cry faltered at the end, sliding into a whimper, "Help me…" he breathed wondering if he really was breathing. If any of this was real.

As if in response to his uncertainty, fiery agony ripped through him, there was a hook in his shoulder that started to pull. He screamed barely able to turn his head as the pressure inside his body multiplied, _Oh God it's hooked into my ribs, it's hooked into my fucking ribs and it's pulling me apart…._ then the screaming inside his head was all he could hear as things seemed to stretch and tear on the inside as well as the flesh on the outside.

"PLEA…hee heese…" he breathed with tears pouring from his eyes and the hot thick metallic taste of his own blood backing up into his throat.

Somewhere, from all around and from nowhere laughter mocked his pain and winds seemed to whisper that he had this coming. They assured him that he deserved so much more, and in time he would feel every nuance in the world of agonies, and that in the end he would crave to bring the very same back out into the human world.

"Please no… God no!" he shook his head feeling the pull on the hooks. There was more than just the one in his shoulder. There was one through his side, one through each of his wrists and others through his feet in some perverse mockery of Christ's wounds.

Pulling pressure seemed to come from every direction, from within the tiny bones of his wrists and ankles, through the upper right side of his ribcage, and from deep within his bowels.

Screams tore out of him until he was certain he'd pass out. But here there was no such relief. Pressure built inside his head, blood rose up from his throat and poured down the side of his face into the nothingness beneath him. And when his voice failed but the need to scream did not, the pressure pulled on him from all angles, and he cried ribbons of blood from his eyes.

Ten thousand agonies did not number high enough as the pull continued and as madness grew fertile in his mind. The bones of his left wrist separated and his skin split around the hook in his flesh leaving his weight increased on the other five hooks.

OOooOO

"How many Bobby?" Sam asked already exhausted as he once again began to trace the first of the markings around his brothers' body.

Bobby made a hash mark on the wall as Sam took a deep breath, prepared to start the chant again, "Takes nine times boy, after this next one you got six more to go… how's he holding up?" the older hunter asked.

Sam shook his head shaking drops of sweat over the floor as the tell-tale taste of copper rose into the back of his throat, "Losin' it…" he grunted finishing the first marking again and crawling to the second as he re-started the chant.

_God help us all I hope this doesn't kill them both,_ Bobby prayed, _might be better…_ he stopped the thought in its tracks. Even though he was well aware that there were some fates worse than death, the deal was to try and save Dean from hell. If they could actually get him back and have both boys alive and whole again, well then so much the better.

OOooOO

'_One, two, buckle my shoe… three, four salt the door… five, six the river styx… seven, eight if daddy's late (call pastor Jim)… nine, ten better check again…' _"Oh GOD OH GOD SOMEONE PLEASE HELP MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" he screamed until he choked as the second hook tore its way out from between the fragile bones of his right ankle and down from between the long bones of his foot.

Again, the remaining hooks were made to support the added weight. And slowly the tearing became almost a constant.

OOooOO

"Sam…" Bobby paced trying to mentally calculate the amount of blood the boy was spitting up.

"How many?" He gasped starting the circle again, his hands and arms quaking, the symbols growing more and more obscure with each passage of the marker over their borders.

"You're starting number seven. Three more." Bobby's hand clasped over his mouth as the sun rose high into the sky outside, slanting rays of almost summer gold in between the boards that sealed the window.

OOooOO

'_Hush now baby baby, don't you cry… momma's gonna make all of your nightmares come true, momma's gonna put all of her fears into you, momma's gonna keep you right here under her wing… she won't let you fly, but she might let you sing. Momma's gonna keep baby cozy and warm… oooh babe, oooh babe, oooh babe of course momma's gonna help build the wall…' _

"Well," he giggled, "Actually it was dad… course that FUCKING BITCH going and DYING ON US didn't HELP DID IT! HUH DID IT MOM!" he screamed as tears of both saline and blood continued to flow.

"Daddy, daddy, daddy dearest, dear John… Dear John… thank you for FUCKING UP MY LIFE! Thank you for dragging us around the fucking country, thank you for WHATEVER the FUCK you did that led us down this HIGHWAY TO HELL! You sanctimonious, sadistic, SELFISH, single minded son of a BITCH!"

His teeth snapped down on his tongue as the hook in his side tore through the last millimeters of flesh, dragging with it a portion of his intestine as the last two, the one in his left ankle and the one through his right shoulder pulled tighter, sawing their way free with every breath, scream, or shout. The only question was which one would go first.

"Guess I don't need THAT anymore!" he screamed watching the streamer of guts unfurl from the hole in his side as bile and vomit rose into his throat, "Oh God, Oh GOD PLEASE!...help me," he begged.

OOooOO

"That's enough I can't let you keep doing this!" Bobby reached around John's youngest boy and tried to pull him to his feet. The problem was he was as slick as a greased pig. At the end of the seventh pass his back had bowed high and what seemed a bucket of blood and bile spewed out of him. As he'd begun the eighth pass he began to _sweat_ blood, and as he completed the eight pass he was dragging himself along the stony floor, several of his fingertips bleeding.

With every hardship Bobby wanted nothing more than to take over or to help or to give some kind of aid or even to put a stop to this knowing Dean would NEVER want Sam to go this far. He'd never want Sam to jeopardize his life like this.

One of the reasons he'd chosen this ritual was because it didn't call for the use of any black magic. It had to be performed by one with an unbreakable bond to the wrongfully entrapped soul, and though it did warn of a toll on the strength of the one who performed it, neither of them had expected this!

"No!" Sam gasped glancing over his shoulder.

Bobby would have sworn he felt a faint shove and knew that if Sam's abilities were that tapped out, the boy was almost done.

"How many?" he asked using both hands now to guide the marker over the lines of the first symbol.

"Last pass," Bobby whispered making his final hash mark on the wall before palming the tears from his cheeks.

"Don't you worry none Mister Bobby… there's some potion left for the boy if he should die… then y'all can try again…" Doc Benson suggested from within his cage.

"Could he take it now?" Bobby asked thinking it might just be the kick Sam needed.

The one time doctor shook his head, "Gotta be on the threshold as it were… or dead. Dead's better, course it does give one cause for vexation in terms of how to get it circulatin' an all…but still, one does manage now doesn't one?" that patchwork face grinned.

OOooOO

"NOOOOOOO guh…Oh shit I think I'm gonna puke!" Dean screamed then burst out in an insane mixture of laughter and tears while he swung freely by one foot, feeling the hook inching its way down between the long bones.

Every time he swung near the other hooks that now dangled uselessly, some of them coated with his muscle, flesh or entrail he tried to reach for it but found it further than expected.

Sometimes as he swung freely, waiting for the fall, he bounced into other chains. Some of them pulled so tight he was fairly certain that if he had bones they would be broken as he hit them. And he wasn't entirely sure, but he wondered if perhaps at the distant ends of some of those chains, there weren't other people, other souls like him, also screaming for help.

"Wonder what's gonna happen when I fall?" he asked himself aloud as the last tear burned through the last millimeters of his foot and a spiderweb of, presumably the other-worldly equivalent of steel rushed at him.

OOooOO

"Gotcha," Sam gurgled and collapsed to the floor with the completion of the ninth pass.

Bobby was ready and dragged the boy away from the circle, keeping him on his side so he wouldn't choke on the blood flowing out of his mouth and nose.

One by one on the floor around the table on which Dean's body rested the symbols began to glow in the moonlight, the trail of blood that surrounded the symbols soon seemed to also fill with the light.

The EKG and EEG machines crackled, sparked and smoked. Every hair in the basement stood at attention and on the table Dean's back bowed as a cylinder of white shot upward through the floor above them to stop, only God knew where.

"Now that's something you don't see every day," Doc Benson marveled.

"Sam? SAM!" Bobby hollered unable to tell if the boy in his arms was unconscious or dead.

OOooOO

"Oooh look!" Dean's head cocked to the side barely missing a connection with another of these accursed chains. He looked down noting patches where clothing and flesh had been scraped off by the links he'd collided with. There were edges of bone he could see poking up from places they shouldn't be, and he wasn't sure but he thought there might have been one part where he sorta bounced around it and it fairly well sawed through his middle.

"Boy talk about a tattered soul… could use a tailor… what was I…oh yeah…" it caught his attention again as he spiraled in the nothingness, "What'd she say? Oh yeah… 'Heeeeeaaaaad tooowaaaaaaard the liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight….!' Hmm I wonder…"

And as he focused on the ring of white that seemed to call to him, that somehow felt like something that had once been familiar, a memory of something warm perhaps, something he couldn't remember just now, he drew nearer to it.

OOooOO

tbc.

Please R&R.

Thanks.

sifi.


	3. Chapter 3

Resurrection – sn season 4 speculation fic. – chpt 3.

by: sifi

OOooOO

_Ca…can't… breathe… oh God… Oh GOD… can't..._ and then his chest moved and air flowed into his lungs. His head spun and the gold in the room filled his eyes until he wanted to scream with the piercing pain of it. _This isn't right… this is wrong… what's wrong? No more… please no more…_ then shades of light and dark seemed to make their presence known and finally there came things he could begin to identify, _Looks familiar? Where? Why? I don't…_ all before his back came to rest on the table again.

There were voices he could hear, but the words were just beyond making sense, they seemed warped and stretched and they hurt something inside his head in a way that sorta communicated a particular discomfort along the trail of his spine. In fact, it was kinda making him sick.

Something pounded and his head turned toward the sound bringing his body with it. In a moment he was sitting with his head cocked to the side, looking up into a tunnel of dark beyond a waving flap of something that was blood spattered. _I know this place… it's on the tip of my brain…_

He couldn't have said why, but he found himself drawn toward that tilting column of dark, and just like he had been drawn toward the light before being crushed by the weight of his body, the dark beckoned to him. His feet hit the floor, and his legs managed to hold… and then he was reaching and walking. Newly born again into the familiarity of a lifetime, as if returning to the house in which he'd grown up, he ascended the rickety wooden stairs and crossed the ground floor of the cabin.

There was a lantern lit, a single flame licking air on a table to his left. The light was blinding and he blinked, angling away from it.

His gaze shifted through the open door and into the beautiful velvet night outside.

_That looks familiar,_ he thought noting the raised trunk of a primer coated car. He could hear things thumping around in there and though he was certain there should be comfort to be had nearby, _Just a little time… I just need to get…_ he didn't know how to describe the feeling inside except to say that it felt like he'd put on a suit that had been somehow twisted around him and he needed to straighten it out.

A splotch of more severe dark against the ground called out to him and he veered off toward it, _I remember this..._

Ground crunched under his boots as he looked down into an open box and scratched his head, his expression puzzled. There was something very familiar about all this.

Frowning, his boots 'thunked' against the bottom of the box at the same time the trunk of the car came down. _Wow was that really loud or is it just me?_ He wondered crouching down to examine bloody streaks inside the lid, laying his own fingers along the paths.

He startled, stumbling backwards into the dirt wall as he held up the hand and found it split in two with bones, tendon and sinew waving with the motion, one half of the hand was tipped in his pinkie and ring finger, and the other half, the other three fingers.

"Huhnuh…" he breathed feeling his heart trip-hammering against his breastbone as he blinked. In front of his eyes, his hands, both whole and complete and in tact as they should be, shook violently.

He steadied himself, wiping the rivers of sweat from his face and rose to his full height to look at the cabin, _Let's just get the hell out of here…_ he bent his legs and pushed for all he was worth, grasping and clutching at the ground as he pulled himself out of the grave. _That was… uncomfortably comfortable…_ to the right was the primer colored car, the trunk down now, not that he gave it a moment's thought. He was more concerned with the cabin behind him and why it had left him feeling… WRONG.

There were woods in front and to the left of him, and for some reason, maybe the darkness, maybe the quiet, he couldn't really have said which, he was drawn to them. So, without real thought, his feet carried him away. _There's nothing civil about that place, it's… it's just… _he shook his head, _evil happened there…but that was…before. _Up ahead and through the dark layered flora something seemed to sing, _what's up over there?_ He moved into the woods.

OOooOO

"Sam? C'mon now boy…"

"Mmm mister Bobby? Y'might wanna…" Doc Benson tried to get his attention.

"Not now!"

"Ain't got much choice about the when… that is if you wanna catch up with the other youngun," he smirked.

Bobby's head snapped around to the table, filled with disbelief first, and then paling with fear, "Oh hell. SAM!" he cried loudly shaking the boy on the floor, "Son of a BITCH SAM! For the love of GOD boy wake up!" he called then looked at Benson, "Where'd he go?"

"Up the stairs… looked a might confused, but basically…" he looked at Sam, "The boy did good," he motioned to Sam, "You let me outta here and I'll watch him for ya."

Bobby frowned shaking his head and muttering something about asking the Fox to guard the Henhouse. He dragged Sam well out of the possibility of the doc's reach, then leaped up the stairs.

"Dean! Dean! You up here boy?" his voice thinned as he reached the ground level, "How the hell did I miss him?" his muttering was clear enough as his feet thundered over their heads and dirt shook down, doing what Bobby couldn't only moments earlier as the youngest Winchester started to swim back up from his own murky depths.

OOooOO

"Dean! Dean Winchester answer me boy…" Bobby called stepping out into the night air with his heart in his throat. He swept the ground with his gaze and ran toward the hole Sam had dug up two nights ago, almost afraid to look down.

OOooOO

"Dean! Dean Winchester answer me boy…" he heard. Something in the voice slowed his steps just a bit, _Is that an ORDER? SIR? _he wondered quickly, _No,_ he shook his head, _that was concern… 'Sir' is dead… _he looked over his shoulder back toward the cabin that gave him the creeps, _but he IS family isn't he?_

He frowned and leaned into a nearby tree as images sailed through his mind, the scruffy red-haired man with the dirty ball cap and the feel of 'home'.

_We were in the old cowboy cemetery trying to close the doorway to hell._ He winced as a flash of pain ripped through his forehead and he gasped.

_There he is, there's 'Sir', or can I call you dad now that you're dead? I never shoulda left Sam alone that night, _he recalled the sight of that dark hooded creature leaning over his five year old little brother, trying to suck the life out of him. And he remembered _the look _as dad held Sammy close, giving that warmth and care to the one who'd lain oblivious, not to the one who was just leveling a sawed-off for his first possible 'kill'. A million things had run through Dean's head in that instant as he raised that small shotgun, _what if I hit Sammy? What if it turns on me? What if it comes after me and I can't stop it then gets Sammy? What'll dad do if he comes back and finds us both dead… he'll know I failed! He'll know I screwed up… he'll hate me. _Then 'Sir's' voice… deep and sure, barking an order from behind him… more words came… strong from 'sir' and timid from him. He knew he'd done wrong; there was no need for that icy-burning dark look on his face. As he held and comforted Sam, but gave nothing but cold, stabbing disappointment and disdain to his first born, the meaning of the word 'dad' changed forever that night. _It's 'Sir' now. Dad is gone for me. Dad has Sammy. 'Sir' has 'troops'. _

_I have to be better. _

Then in a flash he was watching John sneak up behind Azazel's host and ripping the demon out of him.

His head spun as he felt a warm mouth close on his and beautiful bedroom eyes gaze into his under a velvet sky, "It's a better deal than your dad ever got…" echoed through his head.

"You're scared Dean, you're scared because your year is running out and you're still goin' t'hell and you're freaked!"

"I don't wanna die… and I don't wanna go to hell…"

"How much time did you get?"

"Are you THAT screwed in the head?!"

"Guess I gotta save _your_ ass for a change."

"Are monsters' real?"

"Y'think something's wrong with m'brother?"

"I know demons lie… but do they ever tell the truth?"

"I've been following you around my entire life! I mean I been lookin' up to you since I was FOUR Dean, studying you… tryin' t'be just like my big brother…"

"Alright, we'll find a way to get you out of this."

"A year. I got one year."

"I couldn't let him die Bobby…he's m'brother…"

"We got work t'do."

"You tell dad I told you this and I will END you. Monsters _are_ real."

"Nah, demons lie."

"Uh yeah, I guess… s'pecially if they know it'll mess with your head."

"Shhhh shhh shhhh shhh shhh shhhhhhh," he pressed his hands to his ears rocking gently against the tree.

In time the strange song on the far side of woods became louder than the voices in his head and before long it drew him toward it again.

"What IS that?" he wondered if he knew the song. It FELT like he should know it.

OOooOO

"Dean!" Bobby called, his voice fading with the tail end as he looked around the yard, straightening up from the side of the Impala. He'd checked the hole Sam dug in order to get Doc Benson back out of the ground, and he'd checked his car, inside and all around. He'd even said a short prayer that the boy would be drawn to his beloved Impala.

_Doc said he looked confused, must've wandered off… c'mon boy, come back…_ he sighed whipping his cap off and scrubbing his head with his hands, "Son of a BITCH!" _Get Sam up first and then we can go find Dean._

"Deeeean!" Sam groaned stumbling to the door of the cabin.

_Thank you Lord… Thank you! _He glanced up then raced to the young man, _Speak of the devil…_

"Sam…"

"Bobby," Sam breathed leaning heavily on the jamb, "DEEEEAAAANNN!" he called again stumbling out into the older mans' arms. "Where is he Bobby? Where'd he go?"

Bobby shook his head, "I dunno kid."

"We gotta find him Bobby, we gotta get him back, make sure he's okay…" Sam's knees buckled as he doubled over in obvious pain.

"Are you sure YOU'RE okay?"

Sam nodded and spat a glut of pink, his internal bleeding slowing down now, somehow managing to heal itself, "I'll be okay, we just need to find Dean."

"He can't have gone far he's on foot."

"Did you check the car?" Sam asked.

"Checked 'em both."

"Oh God…" Sam lurched to the left, toward the hole.

"I already checked, he's not there either… thank heaven… he's just…" the older hunter shook his head again and shrugged.

"Gone."

"Yeah. Sam? Before we started the ritual you said you could feel him… can you still?"

The young man stood still seeming to be listening for something but frowned and shook his head a moment later, "Confused, and… disjointed… scared, no not scared, uncertain. Out of order like a stack of papers in the wind," he seemed to slide back out of himself and looked Bobby in the eyes, his expression sheepish. "That's all I got."

"Let's hope it's enough."

"You go that way…" Sam started motioning to the right.

"Nuh uh! No way in hell I make the same mistake twice… we don't split up until you're back to rights."

"I'm right enough Bobby… this isn't about me, it's about Dean… we have to find him."

Bobby pulled his cell from his pocket and checked for a signal, a second later Sam did the same thing and rolled his eyes scrolling down to Dean's number.

A moment later the opening riff to AC/DC's Back In Black seemed to roll up from the basement of the cabin.

"His jacket's down stairs. Son of a bitch!" Sam cursed.

"We go together," Bobby nodded glad he'd stuck to his guns as he and John's youngest quickly outfitted themselves with some basics from the trunk and headed into the woods.

OOooOO

_Oh I know THIS song…_ he felt his lips curl back in a snarl as his hand came out, stopping the descent of the heavily muscled arm as it raced for the teenage girl crouched on the floor.

"What the…" the man turned, his face twisted with surprise.

"Peek-a-boo… I see you," Dean felt his head swim as the universe seemed to turn using HIM as its axis, his hand grasped that Popeye-like forearm, in part to keep himself upright, and in part to keep this _thing _close at hand. _That's the kind of guy that made a t-shirt into a 'wife-beater'._

Like a rocket his left came up into the guys' nose, forcing an explosive shower of blood as the girl crawled across the floor, her eye quickly blackening and her lips split and running blood.

His body worked with almost no conscious direction while something inside sorta sat back, pretty much delighting in the show as bone broke, skin tore, and blood continued to flow in what he noticed were very pretty and rich red ribbons.

A distinctive 'CRACK' slowed the hammering of his fists. _Ow…_ he thought flexing his fingers and slyly glancing at those hands, just to make sure they were still… whole. _He's not going anywhere any time soon._ He nodded to himself then noticed something peculiar. The man wasn't fighting any longer, but he wasn't breathing either. In fact there was nothing about him that was moving, but his eyes were open, staring at the front door. If they could see, they would have been staring at Sam and Bobby as they gasped, _they look pretty horrified… hmm._

"Dean?" Sam slid into the room, "Bobby check her…" he directed as the older man moved past the two brothers.

"Dean?" Sam knelt at his side, his blue-green eyes glassy as he pressed his fingers to the man's throat then turned his older brother's head. "Dean?"

His big brother smiled brightly, "Hey Sam." It seemed the simplest greeting.

"Hey Dean," Sam smiled softly and eased him up to his feet before drawing him off the corpse, "Dean? What did you do?"

OOooOO

tbc.

Please review.

Thank You.

sifi.


	4. Chapter 4

Resurrection – spn season 4 speculation fic

Resurrection – spn season 4 speculation fic. chpt 4.

by: sifi.

OOooOO

"Whaddya mean?" Dean asked. _It's okay, it's Sammy. It's okay. _He assured himself and had to step quickly as Sam drew him away from the body on the floor or else he would've wound up on his face. "Hey Bobby," he raised his hand in a partial wave even though the older mans' shaky smile and hesitant nod did not go unnoticed. _He doesn't think I'm quite right…_ he looked at his brother, _neither does he._

"Dean, he's dead," Sam motioned to the floor, _Oh my God please no, please no… something went wrong, what the hell could've gone wrong? I did EVERYTHING RIGHT! Please… oh God…_

John's eldest boy smiled nodding, "Uh huh… but don't let him fool y'though…" he looked around his brother's shoulder at Bobby, "How is she?"

The girl nodded, "I'm okay…" and started to get up with the older hunter's help.

"WAIT!" Dean ordered striding around Sam to stand before her.

She stood shaking as he gently grasped her chin and tilted her head first this way, then that. His mouth turned down while her eyes darted between the body on the floor and the man who'd rescued her.

"Listen, whatever you tell them happened when you wake up… just keep it believable and keep us out of it okay?" he shot his most disarming smile at her, "I just got out of hell… I don't need to go to jail."

She nodded, almost visibly melting with his inherent charm. "I know how to… keep a secret," She nodded then frowned, "When I wake up?"

"Sorry," he muttered with a trace of sadness before his fist connected solidly, leaving the woman slumped in Bobby's arms, "Yeah, I bet you do," just as a series of 'pop's' and a scraping came from the floor behind them.

"Start chanting Sammy," Dean turned back and wrapped his arm, one around the brute's neck, the other up under his arm in a standard half nelson.

Instinctively Sam followed his brothers' instructions and began reciting their most commonly used exorcism while Bobby set the unconscious girl down and raced to the door with a canister of salt to make sure the thing couldn't get out into the night.

With the demon's final throes before it's relegation to hell, it jerked backwards driving Dean into the wall then crumpled under his weight as the demon itself was finally expelled.

Dean rose to his feet, a surprised and somehow pleased expression on his face, "Huh."

"He was possessed…" Sam sighed relieved that his brother hadn't killed an… well almost innocent man.

_Guess I really must not belong there…wonder if that means I'm NOT a demon… would that be 'at all' or 'yet'? _the eldest Winchester wondered but smiled then clapped a hand onto each of the other mans' shoulders, "Good job guys," he stepped over the salt line at the door and back out into the night.

In the middle of the driveway he stopped, his head cocked to the side, his eyes closed and a faint smile on his lips. He stood still with his face upturned and simply breathing, until the other two joined him, he could feel their uncertainty, their curiosity, _they're scared… well not really SCARED…but they're definitely unnerved. Huh. Wonder what they'd think if I told 'em…_

One man came to a halt on either side of him interrupting his train of thought. He looked left and saw so much more than just his little brother, then right and saw a man he loved like a father. _Thank you Bobby_. He could feel the weight of their trepidations laying over them like a soaked heavy blanket and he balked stepping forward and turning to face them. _They won't understand… is this how you…_ his eyes flicked to Sam, _Doc Benson! That's… freakin' urban legend organ thief… Aww Sammy what did you do? What did you make me?_ Growing up as John's 'troops', keeping his expression unreadable was something he'd learned to do as a child. _It's okay I'll fix it._

Shooting for a semblance of normalcy he smiled, "I'm hungry. What's say after we put Doc Benson back where he belongs we get something to eat…" he turned and looked at Sam, finally seeing the _exterior_ of the young man. He looked like he'd been rolled in mud and most of it had flaked off except for what had his hair plastered down, but with a lifetime of hunting under his belt Dean knew the boy was coated in dried blood, _SamMY! What did you do!_

"Where'd all the blood come from? Are you hurt?" he asked clasping the boy's head and looking into his eyes for a moment before starting to pat him down.

Sam shook his head pushing his brother's hands off him, "I'm fine… Dean… how are you? What… how did you get here?" He motioned to the house.

_OOoh he's right on the edge of the 'sharing and caring' voice'… relax Sam, I'm not gonna break. _"Uhhh… walked," he motioned to the tree lined far side of the street, "Same as you since I don't see either car…" he glanced at Bobby, easily reading the uncertainty on the old hunters' face, "So this…" he tugged on Sam's blood-stiff shirt, "part of whatever brought me back?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded, "what do you remember Dean?" his voice still soft, and his expression teetering between condescending and pitying.

"Sam," his hand came up to his little brother's neck.

"Yeah Dean?"

Dean looked back over his shoulder, "The guy was possessed, and even when he wasn't he was an abusive bastard, not that THAT actually justifies anything… but he was possessed. I'm not gonna go 'pop' and start shooting up the nearest shopping mall any time soon so just relax okay?"

Sam seemed to sigh and his smile loosened a bit, "Sorry Dean… y'just scared the hell outta me disappearing like that… then…" he motioned to the house again.

Dean nodded after a quick ponder of the young mans' point _just don't look deep,_ he told himself,_ don't look deep it's still Sammy_, "Yeah sorry about that…"

"So do you… I mean, what do you remember?"

_Everything, _"Not much," _it's just like scattered leaves man, _"I remember Lilith in Ruby…" _and the claws and fangs… the tearing, burning, the heat of my own blood flowing over my skin, weighing down my clothes, _he shook his head, _"… it's a prison of flesh, and blood, and bone… and fear!" that's what meg said… she was right. _"Not much else just yet… it'll probably come later…"

Sam could almost feel the layers moving through his brother, he knew Dean was lying but he didn't know why, and THAT was what left him most unnerved.

Dean seemed to come back up from that extra inner dimension and looked between Sam and Bobby, "How long was I there?"

"Too long," Sam said tersely.

_I already know about Doc Benson Sammy… I can see the part of you, you never wanted to let out, I know everything you don't want me to, what else can you be hiding?_

"C'mon, let's get gone before she wakes up."

He turned toward the woods and started back toward the cabin knowing full well both men would follow him, if for no other reason than their own uncertainty of his mental state.

_It's not me you have to worry about. I think._

OOooOO

_Oooh my baby! _he grinned, _now THIS feels right!_ "Got my keys?" Dean asked stopping at the rear of the Impala, "Hello baby d'ja miss me?" he stroked her smooth black rear with one hand and caught the keys with the other.

"What're you doing?" Sam asked as Bobby watched silently.

"Gonna finish up with Doc Benson Sam… digging him up on your own was reckless, coulda got yourself killed especially since he needs a new heart after I shanked his last one," he turned to Bobby, "You didn't help him with this craziness did you?"

"No he didn't," Sam answered, "I was careful… and we needed to resuscitate your body," he explained.

Dean paused but didn't look up from the bag he was loading, "Just don't say mouth to mouth…"

Finished with the bag he turned from the trunk and looked between the two men. He smirked, shook his head, and slung the bag over his shoulder then met eyes with Sam, "You stay out here with Bobby. I'll be back in a couple minutes."

Sam shook his head, "Like hell I'm staying out here!"

"Yes. You are." He glanced at the older hunter, "Whatever deal you made, I'm unmaking… so stay out of my way. You know how cranky I get when I'm hungry." He turned toward the cabin with one last glance at Sam as the younger man lurched toward him but was held back with a gentle hand from Bobby.

"Sam, stay." He pointed striding into the structure.

Sam and Bobby ran side by side to the basement window and peered into the yellow of the oil-lamp light.

OOooOO

Finally alone and without the scrutiny of his little brother and their best friend Dean found he could breathe. He felt the tension leech out of his shoulders as he stopped at the table and got himself quickly organized.

_Thank you for getting me out of there Sam… I just wish I knew if you did the right thing or not. _

With his tools comfortably situated in their accustomed places he descended the stairs, returning to the doctor's workshop.

From the corner of his eye he saw Sammy strapped down with what looked like a filthy melon baller sliding between his eye and the orbit of his skull, _three more seconds and I woulda been too late… my boy'd be missing an eye… son of a bitch!_

Then with a blink it wasn't Sam anymore, it was the doc himself, strapped down with a chloroform edged hole in his unnaturally beating heart. _Just cause it's still beating doesn't mean it's doing the job right,_ he knew.

A heart beat later it was him.

It was that moment of looking up and of somehow looking out and seeing his own body with his back bowed upward as he seemed to be shot into it, very much like a bullet about to hit a clay pot, only this time it didn't shatter. This particular clay pot simply caught the bullet that was his soul and now he was rattling around inside wondering if he still fit the right way. _Same thing Sam and Bobby's wondering… no sense in hiding it… but talking it out would make too much sense, and the Winchester Troops don't talk, don't discuss anything but the hunt… I gotta keep it together… for Sam…_ his eyes flicked toward the window where he could feel them watching. _What are you now? What am I?_

The bottle of chloroform was exactly where he'd left it a full-on lifetime ago, and beside it sat the doc's journal, and one of Bobby's books. He stuffed the book into the bag and moved on. Dean's own jacket lay draped over the back of a chair. _Dad's jacket…_ he corrected himself.

"_Your favorite leather jacket?... Dad's." _

"_Your music?... Dad's." _

"_Your car?... Dad's. Do you even have an original thought of your own?"_

He could feel doc Benson's eyes on him as he moved through the room toward the jacket and emptied the contents of its pockets, taking back what was his before laying it over the back of the chair again.

"Your brother and I had a deal son… you don't wanna go and bust up a good working arrangement now do you?" he pointed to a cooler across the basement, "I gave my word…" he started as Dean poured the liquid anesthetic into a handkerchief.

"You lied and you know it."

He watched the hunter then pull a machete from his belt and splash its blade with the stuff, "I can… my work can revolutionize health care… can you imagine the benefit of keeping a body alive while waiting for an organ without really having to worry about…" he motioned to the hole in his own chest.

"An actual expiration date?" Dean smirked turning and opening the cage, "You're not exactly a convincing poster child for immortality… the whole… Ed Gein, patchwork quilt made of skin… just kinda..." he paused, "more of an argument AGAINST the cause than for it."

Slowly the doc crawled out of the cage as Dean backed across the basement, "Flinch in the wrong direction and off comes your head."

The doc nodded, "I cotton."

"Good… now…"

The eldest Winchester moved faster than anyone could have expected, his hand holding the machete turned in, swung up, and then around as he closed the six feet between himself and the doctor with two steps sending the doc's head rolling on the floor back toward the cage it'd just vacated.

To his surprise the body actually continued to walk a couple steps toward the stairs. He glanced back at the head, the eyes met his and the mouth continued to move, trying to speak though there was no air, and no vocal cords against which to make sound.

The body fell.

Dean grasped it by the arm, dragged it back to the table and hefted it up onto the wood plank that would become its pyre.

He moved quickly, pulling down every flammable thing he could find and piling it around the body while the head stared at him, the eyes following his every move, the mouth silently pleading for him to stop.

"Y'know… that's very unsettling." He grumbled moving to the head and pressing the soaked handkerchief against the face knowing the fumes would do the job even without being breathed in. "Creepy ass thing…" then emptied the last of the bottle over the body, layered it over with some lamp oil and lit it up.

Once the flames had a proper hold of the body he tossed the doc's journal into the conflagration, grabbed the head and carried it up the stairs as blue flame licked its way up the wood.

His little brother's strong hand grasped him by the back of the shirt as he reached the ground floor of the cabin, and dragged him outside just as the rest of the walls caught fire.

"Bobby's got a fire going in the hole," Sam motioned toward the refrigerator they'd buried the doc in.

"So he does," Dean smiled noting the familiar glow of a fire from within the ground, and headed for the hole where Bobby stood ready.

As the trio of men stood watching the fire consume doc Benson's head Bobby glanced at John's eldest, "What if there was something in that book? What if you need more of that potion… what if he was lying?" he stumbled over all his uncertainties.

"Life is an anticipation of tomorrow… nobody knows how much time they have."

"At least if you die tomorrow the odds are you won't go to back to hell," Sam muttered fighting the tears that wanted to cover his eyes. He draped an arm around Dean's shoulders but as much as he wanted to hug him, didn't. _CAN we be back to rights now? Can we call this OUR do-over?... "You're Travis Bickel in a skirt pal…" "He's your weakness… and the bad guys know it." "I'm your weak spot Sam… and you're mine." "The things that I'm willing to do for this family… scares me…" _

"I can live with that," Dean nodded, _I wonder how long I can live like THIS… seeing what I see… hearing a world screaming in agony… can't do the job myself… that'll just land me back in hell again… _As the voices, screams and songs of came together in a deafening cacophony inside his head he wondered, _compared to this… maybe hell wasn't so bad after all. _

"So you still hungry?" Bobby asked glancing to the east as the horizon turned a lighter shade of black.

Dean nodded, trying to close those doors inside his head, trying to close out the screaming of the world around him like they'd closed the gates to hell in Wyoming.

"Got a taste for anything in particular?" the older hunter asked.

Dean shrugged as they turned away from the fire and toward their cars.

"There's a diner just up the road."

"We'll follow you Bobby," Dean nodded tossing the bag full of tools into the impala's trunk.

Inside he turned the engine over and closed his eyes smiling with his baby's good vibrations and soothing purr.

"Where's your jacket?" Sam asked as Bobby pulled out onto the road and Dean put the car into gear sliding with buttery ease onto the road behind their old friend.

Dean shook his head, "It wasn't mine."

OOooOO

End.

A/N – I know this is a kind of a strange place to end this little fic here. Please do remember though that it is really just my own ego here… as in – if I was writing the first ep of season four… this might be how I would have done it.

Thank you to each and every one of you who has bothered to read this little bit of speculation, and have been so wonderfully supportive of not just this little fic but of everything… Thank you so much! (a Million thanks are not enough).

I would really LOVE to hear what you have to say about this fic…if you have the time or inclination to share your opinions. (I'm not used to working IN canon.) And if you choose not to… I thank you for taking the time to read it. and I do hope you enjoyed it.

Thank you again,

sifi


End file.
